Don't Change Your Mind
by fuckthishat
Summary: Sometimes, Clint really hated his job.
1. Chapter 1

Oh look, a magical gift fic for thorki-smut, the most amazing lady to ever grace tumblr :D

This turned out to be way longer than I thought it would be, and went all the places I hadn't exactly planned, so I hope you still like it, pumpkin. I worked super hard on it. 'twas a labor of loooove; angsty, awkwardly romantic, Clint-centric loooooooooooooove.

Anyways, here's your magical alternate ending fic, honeybunch~ Happy reading.

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**Part One**

Clint Barton considered himself a reasonable man. On his best day, he might even go so far as to call himself agreeable. But at the very least he could usually manage to keep his cool, if only for efficiency's sake. There were only two things in the world that could put him off his mood- being asked to explain himself and blunt force trauma. Somehow, within the span of an hour, both of those things had happened. Repeatedly.

Sometimes he really hated his job.

"You still haven't answered the question."

Sometimes he really hated Natasha too, but that was probably just the headache talking.

Grumbling a bit, he took another sip of the water she'd brought him. He'd have rathered soda, which didn't seem like an exorbitant request. She'd had him walled up for the last three hours and bombarded him with questions he didn't know the answers to in the first place. The least she could have done was give him a few cans of Coke for his trouble. She wouldn't have it though- said he needed the hydration. Which was infuriating. And loving.

Ok, he probably didn't hate her.

"You haven't asked me one I can answer yet."

She didn't look convinced, but after hours of this run-around he hadn't expected her to. If he was honest, he probably wouldn't have believed himself either.

Natasha fisted a hand in her hair, looking as weary of the interrogation as Clint felt. "So that's it? Loki goes through the trouble of taking you on board, then doesn't tell you anything but his name?"

In his defense he knew a bit more than that, but he got the point.

"The guy just wanted a bit of security. I provided it. How many of _your _secrets would you spill to a body guard?"

She still didn't look overly convinced, but she didn't offer a quick retort like she had for the last few hours. Small victories. He threw back the rest of the water and let Natasha pluck the cup from his hands before continuing. "Besides, his plans weren't exactly at the forefront. He had plenty of other things he wanted to talk about."

Not all of them pertaining to himself, which Clint found surprising now that he thought about it. Loki struck him as the egotistical type.

Some of Natasha's earlier spark returned. "That so?"

She took to nibbling on the lip of the cup. One of her quirks, though if she noticed the habit she never talked about it. Whenever she picked up a scent, she'd chew on whatever she had in her hands. Pencils, the tips of her hair, and undoubtedly cups- anything was fair game. Maybe it helped her think. "And you're sure none of it is relevant?"

There were a lot of words for what had passed between them. Relevant wasn't one of them.

"Positive."

"Run it by me anyway."

"What do you want me to say, Tasha?" he snapped. "That he was some gloating bastard? He wasn't."

And that silenced her for the moment, either from satisfaction with his answer or irritation. The pursing of her lips and the slight stomp she gave as she stood to refill the cup hinted at the latter. He didn't blame her. They were never short with one another. It probably stung.

He jumped at bit when she slammed the tap closed. Scratch that. It most definitely stung. He waited for her to return to her seat before making amends.

"Sorry. I'm tired as hell."

It was terrible apology, but Natasha accepted it anyway. Shrugging, she passed him the now full glass. "I'm just doing my job."

Damn the job. It'd gotten him nothing but grilled and hit all afternoon. "I'm about tired of mine."

She cracked her first smile of the afternoon. "Rough week, huh?"

"Had worse. Like I said, the guy wasn't that bad."

He took a sip from the cup before passing it back. He really hated the taste of water. The second she let him go he planned on finding the nearest drink machine, even if that meant jumping ship.

Natasha fiddled with the cup again, stilling mulling something over. He hoped to god it was something with a one-word answer, because dammit if he wasn't sick of this room.

"How was he? Really."

Clint grunted in disapproval.

"Purely personal interest," she added, no doubt to coax him.

"You mean it, or are you just trying to get me to talk?"

"I mean it."

He wasn't so sure. She rarely did anything out of personal interest. Not that it would matter. He'd meant it when he said his and Loki's interactions were irrelevant. Reporting any of it would be superfluous. No harm in letting her have her way.

"He talked a lot. Mostly about home and his brother, though. He didn't have much to say for himself. Seemed to like listening, too. He asked a bunch of pointless questions."

"Such as?"

Eager. Maybe she _would _report it. Ah well. Too late. It would only be a spectacular waste of time for her, anyway. "You know, pointless questions people like to ask. If my family and I get along, if I like where I live, if I love anyone. People stuff."

Natasha slumped a bit in her chair. "Oh."

Clint snorted a bit at that. He'd never seen her lose interest in a subject so quickly. Then again, she'd never been one for "people stuff". It bored her, or scared her. He hadn't figured it out yet.

For a moment, he thought it would end there. She'd been losing momentum for the last hour and a half, anyway. It was a good a time as any to call it quits. While he waited for dismissal, he made a mental list of all the possible places on the ship where he might find a soda machine. The dining area, definitely, but that was a ways off. Maybe he'd run across a break room on the way. There'd probably be one there. Of course, then there was the issue of paying for it. He supposed he could just-

"You like him?"

Oh. Apparently they weren't done. "Pardon?"

"Loki. Do you like him?"

"How so?"

"Normally so."

Clint considered it a moment. He had yet to make that call. Loki had been odd company, but not as bad as he would have thought. Going off first impressions, he'd expected someone, well, harsher. His edges were rough, and he was unbelievably pissed at god knew what, but that described over half of Clint's co-workers and he liked _them_ well enough. And few of them were as accommodating as the man had been. Nothing but hospitable, honestly, and attentive, at least towards him. Loki had latched onto him, just as much for company as safeguarding. He'd felt more like a guest in a strange house than anything else. All that said, he supposed he shouldn't care for him for the simple fact that the man had commandeered his mind. Still, Loki was uncommonly likeable, and the urge was damn near irresistible.

But he wouldn't tell Natasha that. Not now anyway. She'd just want to talk about it, and he couldn't have wanted anything less. Maybe after a few hours sleep, but not now.

"He's not that bad."

"Must be talking about two different guys."

"Or one guy with an image to uphold. You know how that is."

Natasha landed a teasing punch to his shoulder. "Ass."

"Twat."

She huffed in mock fury and punched him a bit harder, and he couldn't resist flinching away from it that time. She'd hit hard enough earlier to make him nervous. It didn't escape her notice and she pulled back, looking nothing short of sheepish. "How about a peace offering?"

Clint tried his hand at looking disinterested. "I can't be bought."

"Not even with that Coke you wanted?"

She didn't wait for him to drop his act, not that she needed to. He'd complained enough earlier for her to know it was a suitable trade.

"I'll be back in a few," she said, standing and heading for the door. "Try to get some sleep while I'm gone, yea? You look terrible."

Clint snorted, chucking a spare pillow at her. She managed to slip through the door before it reached her, and instead it collided with the frame. Not nearly as satisfying, but he could live with it.

"Thanks, mom."

She yelled something back, but was too far down the hall by then for it to be discernible. He doubted it mattered, though. She'd have thought of a better jab by the time she came back, anyway. He wouldn't miss out.

Taking her advice, he slid down into the bed, resting against the remaining pillow. The contact made his skull throb, but he opted to ride it out instead of repositioning. The bare mattress would only hurt worse, and it'd dissipate soon enough anyway. All he needed to do was sleep it off. If he hurried off, he might be able to squeak out thirty minutes. Better than nothing.

Way better than a bash to the head, at least.

Had he the energy, he might have laughed at the thought. The bed was comfortable, though, and had already given under his weight and formed to the curve of his back. It had effectively drained the last vestiges of his will. He'd just have to remember it and tell Natasha when she got back. She'd laugh. Or hit him again. Either way, she'd be amused.

Using the last of his strength to burrow into the sheets, he drifted off, hoping the nearest Coke was on the opposite side of the ship and that Natasha got pulled into a meeting along the way. Thirty minutes was better than nothing, but an hour or two would be real damn nice.

0-0-0

"_You hate me." It was an odd thing to say, but Clint wasn't surprised. Loki consistently said odd things._

_He knew this room. It was Loki's, where he went when he needed to think or wanted Clint to himself. The latter was more frequent, but Clint supposed he wouldn't have wanted to be alone if he were Loki either._

_But this wasn't real. Not now. It had been, but now it was just a memory. Or a dream. "Dream" was probably a better word in this situation._

_Clint looked up from his boots to find Loki staring. Again, he wasn't surprised. The man watched him like he would break away at any second. Irrational. He couldn't have left if he tried._

"_No sir," he said, meeting his gaze. The man liked that- watching for lies, no doubt. But Clint wasn't going to lie. He doubted that was even an option. "Don't have much reason to."_

_Loki scoffed, tugging at the ends of his hair. Nervous habit, perhaps. "You will." _

_He thought about denying it, but the man anticipated it and held up his hand for silence. Biting his tongue, Clint watched as Loki slid down his place on the wall, curling into himself a bit once seated. He looked tired. Real tired, but he wasn't going to point it out. _

"_You will," the man repeated, not bothering to look at him again. "You'll come out of this eventually. Those friends of yours will see to it." He paused, tucking his knees under his chin. "And when they do, this will be nothing but a bad dream, and I its creator. And you'll hate me for it. Bitterly, perhaps. It would certainly be justified."_

_Loki finally looked back at him, and Clint took it as his cue to speak. "You bothered by it, sir?"_

"_I'm bored with it." It was a flat answer. He certainly sounded bored. "Sit."_

_He came forward, taking a seat directly in front of the man. Had Loki not tucked his legs against his chest, they might even had been knee to knee. Close, like Loki liked it. Clint wondered when exactly during his stay he'd become so aware of what Loki liked, but the man didn't leave him much time to think. Satisfied with Clint's obedience, he pressed on._

"_I've developed a talent for turning people against me. Some permanently. Others- well. Suffice it to say that some men have loved and hated me alternatively for as long as I've had the power to turn them. I had thought-" Another pause, longer than the first. Loki let his feet slip out from under him and come to rest on either side of Clint's knees, shoulders rising and falling with a heavy sigh. He looked like a child. "There was thrill in it, at the start. Now I'm not so sure."_

"_Change of heart?"_

"_Don't be stupid."_

_That probably was a yes, but even after such a short time together, Clint knew Loki well enough to know he wouldn't admit it. Stubborn. Family trait, from what he'd heard of Thor. Letting the man have his comfort, he backed down._

"_Sorry sir."_

_Loki waved it off. "It was innocent enough."_

_It didn't require an answer. He didn't give one. A comfortable silence fell over the two of them, during which Loki kept his eyes trained on him. Clint did his best not to notice. It seemed rude, for whatever reason, so he pretended to be interested in his boots for a while, then the wall, then the hem of Loki's pants- anything but his eyes, which were doing their best to drill through Clint's face. He wondered what the man was looking for, but he wouldn't ask. He didn't really need to know, anyway._

_The man chuckled, and Clint decided he could afford to look then. Loki's face was split with a grin, and his shoulders shook slightly. He hadn't looked so amused since- well, Clint had never seen him so amused. "You find me unpleasant."_

_Also odd. That was twice now. "You keep guessing wrong, sir."_

"_You wouldn't look at me."_

_Clint shrugged. "Thought you wouldn't like that."_

"_You say so you take my wants into consideration?"_

_It felt like a trap, but he continued anyway. "Yes sir. You're the boss, remember?"_

_The man's smile fell a bit, if only to settle into a more maintainable position. It still tugged at the corner of his mouth. Whatever he'd taken from that, it was at least partially what he'd wanted to hear._

"_I assure you, I remember." And suddenly Loki was moving again, pulling his legs back and pushing himself up onto his knees. "I haven't the luxury of forgetting."_

_Slowly, almost cautiously, Loki scooted forward, placing himself knees to shins with Clint. It wasn't terribly unusual. The man liked to be close. He chalked it up to a piss-poor childhood or whatever it was that made people crave contact, and sat still. It only seemed to encourage the man, and he let his back curve, bringing their noses mere centimeters apart._

_Alright, that was unusual, but he still wasn't going to move. Loki was the boss, after all. As someone who had experience with temperamental bosses, he knew it was best to let the man's whimsy go unchallenged._

"_I haven't many luxuries at all, now that I think of it." _

_Clint felt the words more than heard them. They blew hot across his skin. He carried on as if he hadn't felt them. "Shame."_

"_Yes." _

_The man rested his hands on either side of Clint's knees and slinked a bit closer. Clint couldn't help but jump a bit as their noses brushed, but he remained stubbornly rooted and focused on Loki. He was handling it admirably, if he said so himself. Then the Loki's eyes drifted closed, and suddenly he wasn't so sure. _

"_Forgive me, but-" Whatever Loki might have said to excuse himself, Clint would never know. Letting it trail off, the man opted instead to close the last bit of distance between them. _

_It was a soft kiss, no more than a brushing of lips, but Clint stiffened at the contact all the same, unsure of how to react. Or if he should react at all. He'd had a lot of bosses in his life, and not one of them had ever kissed him. He felt oddly unprepared. Loki sensed it and pressed against him more fervently, coaxing him with a slew pecks and nips. Clint resisted a while longer, managing to pull a small whine from the other man. Frustrated. He'd managed to frustrate Loki. He was almost proud of himself._

_Not wanting to put the man out any more than necessary, Clint relaxed into the contact, kissing him back a moment before taking the plump lower lip between his teeth. Loki's breath caught, and he took it as encouragement, suckling it as penance for his earlier hesitation. The man left him to it a while, then pulled back, letting his lip slip from Clint's mouth with a light pop. _

_When his eyes opened once more, they were blown. Clint knew that look, and thought for a moment he might come back for more. In a display of characteristic restraint, however, Loki sat back on his heels, composing himself quickly. He wiped his lip on the back of his hand, then hopped to his feet, motioning for Clint to follow suit. He did, and the other man smiled, clapping his shoulder._

"_You'll hate me."_

_Matter-of-fact, as if his eyes still weren't dark with lust. It was almost ridiculous. Clint thought about telling him that, but then the room was shaking, the scene shrinking. No time. He had somewhere to be. Maybe later._

0-0-0

"Any time now."

Clint groaned, slipping his arm up to shield his ear. Natasha's voice was even more abrasive than it had been before his nap. Apparently he'd been wrong. His headache had no intentions of leaving off. Perfect.

"'m up."

She snorted a little. "You don't look it."

The mattress to the back of him gave under her weight, and a concentrated coldness pressed to the center of his back. The Coke, he assumed. The chill drove the last of the sleep fog from his mind. Gently, so as to not send his blood rushing and make his headache worse, he eased onto his back and squinted up at her.

"About time. I was working on you for a few minutes."

"Mm. Dreaming."

"Something good?"

He drew his bottom lip between his teeth and nibbled, recreating the tingle of Loki's nips. "Just a dream."

"Well now that you're up," she said, holding out two small pills, "take these."

He held out his hand and she dropped them into his palm. "Pain meds?"

"You got it."

Motioning for him to sit up, Natasha popped the tab on the can. Clint forced himself up with his elbows, leaning against the headboard for support. The movement sent a spike of pain through his temples but he powered through it, taking the can from her and downing the pills quickly. He'd have to remember to thank her once they kicked in. He hadn't even thought to ask for them.

"How long was I out?" he asked, draining half the can in one gulp.

"About an hour. I got pulled into an emergency meeting."

"For what, damage control?" From what he'd seen of the ship before he'd been knocked out, it was in serious need of repair.

"That too, though it wasn't the main focus."

"Ah." Probably something he'd missed during his time with Loki. She'd tell him if he needed to know. Draining the last of the Coke, he crushed the can and tossed it aside. Natasha didn't look amused, but let it happen anyway.

"Listen, about the meeting-" She trailed off, seemingly wrestingly with her words. It was odd, to say the least. She never did that. Before he had a chance to question her, however, she picked up. "Stark left while you were out- took a trip back to his tower. Turns out, your friend was already there."

"Loki?"

She nodded. "Packs a quite a punch, according to Tony."

Clint hesitated, but only a moment. "Is he ok?"

Natasha had the decency not to ask who he'd meant. "It was a small scuffle. Stark managed to safely detain him."

"What about the Tesseract?"

"Still out of our hands, though from what I've heard it's not yet a problem."

Clint wasn't sure how that wasn't a problem, but decided to let it go. "What's Stark going to do with him?"

"Nothing yet. I told Fury what you said, and suggested it might be worthwhile to talk with him. If he's as docile as you said, then there may be a chance that we can get out of this without it getting any messier."

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little surprised. He would have thought she'd be tired of talking with Loki by now. Still, he wasn't going to question it. "Did he ok it?"

She nodded. "He told Stark to hold off until we got there."

Good. "We going to take turns with him, then?"

"Unless you've got a better plan."

He didn't. Loki liked talking, so the more they did of it, the better. "Good as any."

She was looking at him oddly again, like she thought he might be holding back. Or lying. That made two people this week. He guessed he looked like a liar.

"Really," he added. "The guy will talk as long as you let him. At least it'll keep him distracted. Better than nothing, right?"

She shrugged. "Given the circumstances, yea."

Well, that counted for something, then.

The tension in his skull eased a bit- meds were kicking in, and he took it as his cue to move. He'd rested enough, at least for now. In a few hours he'd be tired as hell again, but it didn't matter. With any luck this would be over by then and he could put in for an off day. Or two. Or five.

He scooted to Natasha's side, rolling the stiffness from his shoulders. "Let's get this job over with."

Rising from the bed and pulling her up, Clint headed for the door. Once in the hall he let her take the lead, trailing behind and letting his mind wander back to the dream, back to the phantom softness against his lips.

_You'll hate me. _

He didn't, but he bit his lip to banish the memory anyway. They had work to do. It'd just get in the way.


	2. Chapter 2

Dear pumpkin: I tried my very best to give you the Loki you asked for. If I missed the mark, I'm terribly sorry D: But I hope you like him, anyway~

Also, I apologize for all this apologizing, and any apologizing I might to in the future. I have a horrible habit of apologizing :P

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**Part two**

Clint, Natasha, and Rogers arrived at Stark Tower within the hour, though when Tony came to the door he looked like he could have used them a bit earlier. The skin stretched over his cheekbones was purpling and swollen, and his lower lip was bloodied. Loki _had _put up a fight, then. Good for him. Clint and the others would have never heard the end of it from Stark if the man hadn't been roughed up a bit. A busted lip now and again kept his ego in check.

"Rough afternoon?" Clint gestured to the man's face, not bothering to contain his smirk.

"Laugh all you want, but last time I checked _I _wasn't the one nursing a head injury."

"Right. Just a puffy face."

Tony made to retort, but Natasha wouldn't have it. "If it's not too much trouble for you boys, I'd like to get to work."

The man rolled his eyes, but turned to open the elevator anyway. "Relax. It's not like Loki's going anywhere."

The elevator doors slid open and they filed inside, leaving Rogers to bring up the rear. "Where is he, by the way?"

Natasha rounded on Stark once more. "If you left him unsupervised-"

"It wouldn't matter," Tony interrupted, hitting the uppermost button and setting the lift in motion. "I told you, he's not going anywhere. But no, he's not alone. His big brother offered to babysit."

Steve twisted to face the group. "Thor came back?"

Clint didn't know he'd left in the first place, but he supposed it didn't matter now.

"Yea, and he's got Loki on a short leash-" Stark paused, returning his attention to Natasha. "-so let's not get our panties in a twist, alright?"

A snort forced its way through Clint's nose, earning him a jab to the ribs from his less-than-amused friend. Totally worth was the only one that messed with her as frequently as he did, and he found it unbearably entertaining.

Natasha and Tony spent the duration of the ride bickering amongst themselves, with Rogers occasionally turning around to thwap Stark's shoulder and tell him for what was surely the fiftieth time this mission to be quiet. Clint kept to himself, partially to avoid another blow to his person and partially because he found it difficult to concentrate on anything but the man waiting upstairs for them.

They were all going to talk to him, himself included, and damn if that wasn't going to be awkward. Still, he could barrel through it. He'd endured more uncomfortable things in the past.

The elevator bell gave a final ring and the doors slid open. Tony ushered them through the opening quickly, then began barking orders. "Ok, if we're going to do this, we're doing it neatly. One at a time, starting with Thor. He's already in the room with him anyway. I don't care who follows, so long as it's not Barton. We're saving him for last."

Clint's ears perked at that. "Why?"

"Natasha filled me in. You're our secret weapon, kid. After the rest of us wear Loki down, get him nice and pliant, we'll hit him with his comfort blanket of a mind slave. It'll break him in half. Foolproof."

Stark couldn't have looked more pleased with his plan if he tried. Clint just felt sick.

"Of course," he mumbled, following the man's lead into a spare room. Ok, so he'd been wrong. This was going to be the most uncomfortable experience of his life. Tony Stark had just seen to it personally. He'd have to remember to hit him for it later.

The room he led them into was surprisingly small, though Clint supposed it could have had something to do with the wall, fitted with a large pane of one-way glass, that dissected it. On the opposite side of it sat Loki, wrists locked securely to one another, and Thor, who was doing an admirable job of looking at nothing in particular.

"Gentlemen, Natasha- welcome to my interrogation room."

Clint sighed. Of course he had an interrogation room. "And you needed this because?"

"Never hurts to be prepared, Barton. Can you imagine how awkward this situation would be if I hadn't had the foresight to include this room in the plans?"

Maybe he was biased, but Clint couldn't think of anything that would make today more awkward.

Rogers parked himself to the left of the glass, looking in at the brothers curiously. "Now what?"

"Now we turn up the volume," Stark began, hitting a small button on the wall that presumably did just that, "and see what we can get."

He tapped the glass, catching the attention of the men inside. It was undoubtedly a signal he'd cleared with Thor beforehand, because the man set in on Loki immediately.

"You know why you're here, yes?" Thor's voice wrapped around the room, thick and tired.

Loki chuckled, sharing none of his brother's weariness. "To amuse your peeping friend, no doubt. Tell me, what would he have me do, tied up as I am? Or has he left the _doing_ to you?"

Thor was momentarily speechless. Understandable. Clint wouldn't have known what to say, either. He hadn't expected Loki to jump into teasing so quickly, but the man apparently had no plans to make this easy for any of them. Irritating.

Pulling a spare chair from the corner of the room and pushing it up to the glass, he plopped down. If this was going to be a long interrogation, Clint intended to have a comfortable front row seat from which to view it.

"Leave off your tricks, brother," Thor said, finally recovering. "They will do you no good now."

"No?" The man pouted. Smug bastard. "What a shame. I had so many left, too. Care for a demonstration?"

Without waiting for an answer, Loki lifted his hands up to his chest. Clint wasn't sure what sort of trick that was supposed to be but-

"Son of a bitch," Stark mumbled, glaring at the man through the glass. "I liked those handcuffs."

Oh yea, he _had _been restrained. Clint craned his neck, surveying the floor of the interrogation room for signs of broken metal. He found nothing. Not a single chain link. The man had simply made them vanish. Son of a bitch, indeed. "What happens when he decides he wants to do that to the wall?"

Tony didn't dignify that with an answer, not that he had time to. Thor grunted, obviously displeased with Loki's little performance, and closed the space between them to tower over the man.

If Loki was intimidated, he didn't show it. "Easy now, it's only a trick."

"And I told you to leave off them."

How Loki managed to keep his grin from slipping while Thor snarled bare inches from his nose was beyond Clint. But he supposed the guy had had a bit of practice.

With an indulgent sigh, Loki finally broke eye contact with his brother, signalling his submission. "As you wish."

The man crossed his wrists in his lap and the cuffs reappeared. After giving them a tug and finding them solid, Thor stepped back, watching his brother quietly. Clint wondered what Thor was looking for, what he himself would look for in that situation. Most aspects of the pair's relationship went over his head, but fragile brotherhood was something he could understand.

Loki spared Thor- and Clint- further thought. Looking up from his lap, he gave the man a once over. "You look fit for the grave, Thor."

"You would know. You were ready to put me in one only hours ago."

"An inconvenience you might have avoided had you simply gone home when you were told."

"And to what would I return?" Thor "There is no home without my brother."

Clint's shoulders tensed in sympathy. He shouldn't be watching this. It felt wrong.

Loki shared the sentiment and attempted to barrel through. "I'm not your brother-"

"You are," Thor interrupted, stepping forward with measured urgency. Loki overlooked both the emotion and the outburst and continued.

"-and Asgard is no longer my home. Or do you not recall my being cast from it?"

Rogers shifted away from the glass slightly, and somewhere to the back of his chair Clint heard the rustle of Natasha fussing with her hair. The room was too quiet suddenly, the words coming through the speaker too intimate for comfort. They were all feeling it. The men on the opposite side of the glass carried on, however.

"Loki." It was either the man's name, or a plea. "Whatever you believe this is, it doesn't have to go on. If you would only give up the Tesseract, I could take you home."

"Your home."

"_Our_ home."

In an instant Loki was on his feet, teeth barred and chest-to-chest with Thor. "And why," he hissed up at the man, "would I want to go anywhere with you? You're nothing but a damned leech that would glut itself at my expense, and I will suffer it no longer!"

Thor flinched as if he'd been hit. Satisfied with the reaction, Loki backed away, falling to the chair heavily enough for it to echo. The sound made Clint's head throb.

They shouldn't be watching this.

"Willing or no, you will come with me." Thor's voice was weaker than it had been, as if he no longer trusted it. "If need be I will pry the Tesseract from Selvig's-"

"Selvig is under direct orders," Loki interrupted cooly, "to either open the portal upon my word, or if he feels you or your miserable friends mean to prevent him from doing so. If you so much as step foot on the roof, he will usher in my army and the blood of this city will be on your hands."

"That's a lie." It wasn't, and Thor knew it.

"Go out there, then. Assail him if you're so certain."

He kept quiet that time, and that damnable grin returned to Loki's face. Thor's brows knitted, as if he had to say something important. Or painful. But he didn't. He merely stared at the other man, looking every inch a wounded child.

It was Stark who finally ended it. "Fuck it."

He tapped on the glass again, hard. Loki glanced towards the source of the sound, then returned his attention to his brother. "Your friend is tired of our show, it seems. Go on. Mustn't keep him waiting."

Without further prompting, Thor crossed the room and threw open the door, all but slamming it behind him. Through the glass, Clint saw Loki jump at the sound. It was the only indication that his interaction with his brother had affected him, but it was still an indication. Flawed or not, Stark's plan was showing promising first signs. Not, however, without cost.

When Clint diverted his attention from Loki, he noticed that Thor had yet to move from where he leaned against the door. His back was pressed firmly against it, as if its balance was all that kept him on his feet. "My brother," he whispered, seeing that he had begun to draw attention, "is uncommonly stubborn."

Tony had the decency to look guilty. "Hard shell, huh? Bet he learned that from you." He paused, then went to the man's side, tugging at his forearm. "Come on, time for a break."

Thor allowed himself to be led, and Stark pulled him towards the door. "Sit tight," he called over his shoulder. "We'll give Loki a minute to stew, then try again."

The slide of metal against metal signalled the opening of the elevator down the hall, and Clint, Natasha, and Rogers were left alone.

"Well, that was..." She trailed off, letting Steve pick up the slack.

"A disaster."

Clint was inclined to agree.

He pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his chin on them, content to watch Loki for a moment. Now alone, the man allowed himself the luxury of trembling. Frustration, maybe. He had his head turned, so it was impossible to gauge his emotions.

"You're quiet."

He let his eyes flick from Loki to the right of his chair. Natasha had moved up, and now leaned against the arm. "Just thinking."

"About?"

"Gravity." Clint returned his attention to the man shaking in the interrogation room. "He can kick and scream all he wants, but he's got to come down sometime."

Rogers snorted. "If you say so."

0-0-0

If Loki had any respect for the laws of gravity, he didn't show it. Still, Clint kept reminding himself, the man had to come down.

Sometime.

Stark returned after a few minutes, sans Thor. He'd left the man by one of his bars, told him to help himself to whatever he could stomach, and to stay put. No visits to the roof or the interrogation room. It was probably for the best. Selvig was a non-issue for the moment, and interacting with him would only make things worse. As far as returning to the interrogation room- well, it would only rile him up.

After taking a few moments to regroup, Rogers was sent in. His session was short-lived. Loki deigned to speak a total of five words to the man, and only that after forty-five minutes of pointedly ignoring his questions.

"I'm tired of you. Leave."

Steve sputtered at him a moment, though it earned him nothing but a wave of dismissal. Mumbling something suspiciously similar to "cocky bastard", Rogers left the interrogation room.

Stark was less than impressed. "That went well."

Steve largely ignored it, though he took a few unnecessary steps to the left that allowed him to shove past Tony as he exited the room. Stark followed him to the door. "Where are you going?"

"To check on Thor."

Which really meant he needed a drink, but no one called him on it.

Natasha was sent in next, and Loki did her the favor of at least acknowledging her presence. Nothing more than a curt nod- proof that the man recalled their last conversation. Still, Clint supposed they should be grateful for it. It was more emotion than Rogers had gotten out of the man.

Any gratitude was recalled, however, when the man began to interact with her.

"I must have pleased my captors," he said, eyes alight with some of their earlier spark. "They've sent me a whore for my efforts."

_Christ. _They'd be lucky if she didn't kill Loki where he sat.

Apparently, Tony shared the sentiment. "Thought you said he wasn't so bad."

Clint groaned, pawing at his face. He was already getting tired. "You put him in a small room with nothing but time and a captive audience. What did you expect?"

Tony didn't answer, not that he had time to. Natasha was on the move, closing the space between her and Loki enough for him to have to look up at her.

He wasn't affected. "I'm afraid you'll have to do all the work, pet. My hands are tied. Yours, however-"

Whatever the man had to say about her hands, Natasha didn't care to hear, and cut him off with a swift backhand. A solid hit- enough to knock the man off his center. Clint winced in sympathy. He knew how hard she could hit.

Loki repositioned himself on the chair, panting lightly from the shock of a physical attack. After taking a moment to steady his breath, the man looked up at her once more. A bit of blood leaked from his lip, but he grinned anyway. If nothing else, he was persistent.

"My, what a tomboy." Loki's voice was lilting, if only a little shaky. "But that's alright. A bit of rough housing can be terribly erotic. Might I have another?"

Loki was either attempting to manipulate her or calling her bluff. Clint couldn't think of a time that either of those had worked for anyone else.

The yelp Loki let out when she delivered a second blow was proof that they hadn't worked for him either. "Got anything else to say?" She took the man by the chin, forcing his head up. "Or can we move on?"

When he'd kept quiet long enough to satisfy her, Natasha released her grip on his chin and stepped back. "You've got a lot of nerve, talking to me and my coworkers like that."

Loki's tongue darted out to catch a bead of blood that threatened to roll down his chin. "How would you have me speak, warden?"

Still teasing, but not nearly as boldly. He'd learned his lesson.

"Like you've got a scrap of respect for the man who saved your life."

So that was her angle. For a minute, Clint had thought Loki's comment had actually gotten to her. But no. It was just a game. He liked her games.

If Loki suspected she was playing one, he didn't show it. "If you're talking about that brute who locked me in here-"

"Don't be stupid. Stark was prepared to kill you on sight. If Agent Barton hadn't-"

"Barton?" Loki sat back in his chair slightly, letting his tongue slip out to capture more of his pooling blood. "What has he to do with this?"

"Exactly what I said. He was under the impression that we could settle this diplomatically, and convinced Stark to detain you. If he hadn't, you'd have been in fifteen pieces all over this tower by the time we arrived. You can imagine how embarrassed he is now."

The man fussed with the frayed edge of his sleeve. Nervous habit. "What for?"

"Wasting his breath," she said cooly. "And everyone elses. You aren't worth a fraction of the effort we put into this, or any of Barton's consideration. Which I wouldn't expect any more of, if I were you. Fury's going to want his head for orchestrating this spectacular failure, and he's got no one to blame but you." She paused, giving Loki a terse once-over. "You know, you almost had him fooled."

"What are you talking about?"

"How _he _talked about you. You must be more charming than you let on, because whatever you said to him, he fell for it. There was something about you he trusted, and you just spent the last few hours pulverizing it. And you know, even if nothing else comes out of this, I hope you at least have to look him in the eyes one last time and take some responsibility."

Without waiting for a response, Natasha turned and headed for the door. Loki watched her exit, mouth half-forming words that seemed to have snagged in his throat. It was only after the door clicked shut behind her that he found his voice. Whatever he'd meant to say, however, spoiled and turned to a short huff.

Apparently Stark had been right. The man had developed a weak spot, and Natasha landed a direct hit. When she settled against the arm of his chair again, Clint gave her a light nudge. "Nice shot."

He had no idea where she'd gotten most of it, which was probably the most impressive bit. He couldn't lie worth a damn, and didn't understand how she could build up something so believable on the spot.

She chuckled. "Well, talking obviously wasn't getting through to him. Someone had to give him a little incentive to pay attention."

"You call that little?" Tony, who hadn't so much as twitched during Natasha's session with Loki, finally turned from the window, face split with a grin. "You pulled 97 percent of that out of your ass and it still shut him up! I mean, did you see his face just then? You got him." He paused to clap her on the shoulder, then turned his attention to Clint. "Give him a few minutes to mull that over, and he'll be eating out your hands."

Oh. Right. He'd almost forgotten he'd have to go in. "What about you?"

"I worked on him while after I got him cuffed. No one left but you."

And there it was again, that twist in his gut. It was alright for the others to hassle and manipulate Loki. They hadn't spent the last few days keeping him company. Or listened to the guy talk about Thor as if the man swam through his veins. Or sat knee to knee with him while he asked pointless questions like he gave a damn about the answers. Or kissed him. Most assuredly, none of the others had kissed him.

He was going to be sick.

"Right," he said, rising from his chair. "But we do this my way. Agreed?"

After receiving a nod from Stark, Clint went to the wall and tapped the volume control button. The shaky breaths Loki had been drawing since Natasha had left were cut short, and the man's chest now rose and fell in silence. Perfect.

"When I get in there," he continued, "I need you to switch the lights."

"You mean so we can't see through?"

Clint nodded. "You can do that, right?"

"I can, but-"

"You want this to work or not?"

Stark wrestled with the thought a moment, then sighed. "If he tries anything, this means you're on your own."

"He won't."

Hopefully.

0-0-0

Loki didn't look up when Clint slid through the door, or when the click of it closing bounced off the walls. The man didn't look up when he crossed the room and came to lean against the wall in front of him, or when the lights dimmed, effectively shrouding them from sight. He simply sat, fussing with the edge of his sleeve and most likely pretending he was somewhere else. Clint watched him for several minutes before resigning himself to the fact that Loki wasn't going to engage him, at least not without prompting. Hell, he probably didn't even know who'd come in.

Natasha had really done a number on him, and Clint would have given anything not to feel so guilty about it.

"You hate me." He didn't know why he said it, but it got Loki's attention. The man stiffened in his chair and finally looked up from his sleeves.

"Why?"

He regarded Clint with something like fear. It didn't help his nausea.

"How should I know? They're your emotions."

"No!" It would have been forceful, had Loki's voice not cracked. "Why are you here?"

He supposed he should have expected that. Clint wouldn't have trusted himself either. "I've been here, but I guess you probably know that. I just want to talk."

"As did the others."

"Different." He motioned to the window and Loki looked, eyes widening a bit when he saw that it now bore a view of the other room instead of his reflection. Had the circumstances been different, Loki probably would have asked how the glass worked instead of staring mutely at Natasha's back. But they weren't, and he didn't. Clint pressed on. "No one's watching or listening. It's just you and me."

The knowledge didn't seem to put Loki at ease, not that he'd thought it would. After what Natasha had said, it probably only made the man suspicious of his intentions. But they could work up to it. Letting his feet slide out, Clint eased himself to the floor, hoping to make this as casual as he could. The other man's eyes followed him down.

"What trick is this?"

"Not a trick," Clint said softly, wrapping his arms around his knees. "Not even an interrogation."

"Liar."

"It's not nice to call people names, boss." The word rolled off his tongue like an endearment. It felt nice.

Sounded nice too, if the way Loki relaxed was any indication. "Forgive me, then."

Clint was sure he meant for it to be teasing. It was Loki's only defense at this point. Which was fine. They had time for that. "You've asked me to do that twice this week. This some pattern I should be concerned with?"

Loki didn't respond initially, and Clint thought he'd hit a nerve. Too soon, perhaps. Or too cold. He'd been told he was hard to read. Maybe the guy thought he was saying it to hurt him. If that was the case, they'd just taken a few steps back.

He'd just begun to throw together a hasty recovery plan when Loki released a snort. "Only if I ask a third time." The man even managed a slight smile afterwards.

Well damn. Maybe Clint wasn't as bad at this as he thought. He almost regretted asking Stark to switch the lights. Natasha would never believe him when he told her how quickly this had progressed.

"I'll remember that." Emboldened by the success, he motioned for Loki to join him on the floor. "You're making me nervous up there. Come here. Nicer on the floor, anyway."

The man was back to looking wary. Apparently he only trusted Clint at a distance. Only a slight speed bump. He was sure he could convince him. "If you sit with me, I'll let you take those cuffs off."

It was a pointless bargain. Loki could have removed them either way. Still, it was a nice thought, and apparently Loki appreciated the sentiment. After only a moment more of consideration, he slide from his chair and scooted, stopping a few inches short of Clint's shins. Close enough to touch, if Clint let his knees down. He'd have to keep that in mind. Loki would probably like that after he'd warmed up to the situation.

"Satisfied?"

"I will be-" He tapped the metal that rested snug against the man's wrist. "-after you get rid of these."

Loki eyed him strangely, as if he hadn't expected Clint to follow through. "What purpose would that serve?"

Clint shrugged. "They look kind of tight. Can't be comfortable. Besides, I told you I just wanted to talk. The cuffs make me feel like I'm holding you hostage or something."

But mostly, they just looked uncomfortable. The guy had thin wrists, and the metal was probably digging into the bone.

Loki didn't miss the fact that he'd mention his comfort first. "What has you so concerned, Agent?"

Clint tried his hand at looking offended. "Don't tell me you forgot my name already."

Loki rid himself of the cuffs before answering. "That depends. Am I allowed to use it?"

Was that guilt? It sure sounded like it. " 'Agent' sounds a bit stiff, don't you think?"

"I suppose."

"Then yea, you're allowed." Clint paused, watching the man rub at the deep indents the handcuffs had left in his wrists. "Knew they hurt."

"You still haven't explained your concern."

Clint snorted. "You just can't let me be decent, can you?"

"From what I've heard, you have no reason to be."

Another wave of nausea. Sometimes, he wished Natasha wasn't such a good liar, or that he was a better one. "I don't give up as easily as she thinks."

"Mm." Loki went back to fiddling with his sleeve. He'd already worn several holes into it. Clint hadn't noticed them from the other room, but he must have been working on them for quite a while. There were far too many for them to have been made during his session with Natasha. Apparently he wasn't as calm as he'd let on. "Why did you insist upon this? I did nothing to suggest it would work in your favor."

"Nothing, huh?" Clint shifted to cross his legs, knees brushing Loki's. The man tensed, but quickly relaxed into the contact. Small victories. "You must think I'm stupid."

"Meaning?"

"You talked to me, boss. A lot. I don't know what you thought I was doing all that time, but I was paying attention."

Loki chewed his lip a moment before speaking. "Why do you call me that?"

Changing the subject. Clint knew that tactic. He'd had him and Loki knew it, but he didn't want to give up yet. That was fine. If he'd cornered him once, Clint was sure he could do it again.

"No reason. Don't you like it?"

"If I didn't?"

If he'd meant for that to sound imposing, it had fallen terribly short. His heart wasn't in the fight, not really. It was somewhat empowering, and Clint felt confident enough to play. It wouldn't hurt. "I think you do."

The man didn't answer, which was answer enough for Clint. Blush wasn't easy to spot in the low light, but he was willing to bet Loki's cheeks were stained with it.

"No need to be embarrassed," he said, laughing a bit.

Loki wasn't nearly as amused. "I am not so easily bested."

Clint didn't believe it. Going with his gut, he raised a hand- slowly, as to not startle the man- and brushed his fingers across Loki's cheekbones. They were heated with blood. "It's not nice to lie, boss."

The skin beneath his fingers flashed hotter, and Clint couldn't help but smirk. The man was easier than he liked to think.

"Why are you doing this?" It was hardly more than a whisper, as if the man were afraid anything he might say would worsen the situation.

"Touching you?"

"Teasing me."

"You tease everyone."

"You know this is different."

Clint's earlier guilt came back with full force. He did know. The topic hadn't been broached, but he knew, and his lips still tingled from the memory. Not yet willing to give up contact but knowing he couldn't leave it where it was, he let his hand drop to the man's knee. Loki eyed the appendage, looking ready to bolt if it so much as twitched. Clint left it there, keeping it perfectly still and allowing the man to accustom himself to its weight before answering.

"I know. I'm not-" he paused, not really sure what he meant to say. He wasn't any good with words. Not really. "It's not to hurt you."

"Isn't it? You must want to."

"Not particularly."

Loki didn't look convinced. "What, then? What do you want from me?"

"I want you to believe me, but I don't think I'm getting that."

Whatever the man had expected, it wasn't that. He opened his mouth to retort, but couldn't seem to find the words. After a few moments of sputtering, he grunted, fisting a hand in his hair. He was wearing thin, it seemed. "It isn't that simple."

"Why? I haven't lied to you."

"That doesn't exempt you from doing so later."

Clint sighed. He was exhausted, and they hadn't even broached the topic of the Tesseract yet. He needed a new job. "And why are you suddenly so worried about that? Where was all this a few days ago?"

"The circumstances have changed."

"You mean you don't control me anymore."

"No! That isn't-"

The man broke off, struggling with the thought. He looked uncommonly vulnerable, brows knit and lip near to splitting between his own teeth. It made something in Clint's chest ache. Hoping to offer some sort of comfort, he squeezed the man's knee. Loki eyed it skeptically for a moment, then sighing with something like resignation, laid his own over it. It felt like progress, but Clint decided not to count it as a victory just yet.

"Look, whether you want to admit it or not, you want this to be over as much as everyone else." He gave Loki a moment to deny it, but the man kept quiet. "But if you don't trust me I can't do anything for you. Just let me help, alright? We can get out of this room and wrap this up before it gets any worse. I might even be able to work something out for you- get you in a little less trouble, at least."

He wasn't completely sure he could follow through with that, but if it turned out he couldn't, Clint was sure Loki would just run anyway. Which was almost the same thing.

"Alright."

For a moment, Clint was sure he'd heard him wrong. These sorts of things never worked out for him. Never. "Really?"

The corners of Loki's lips turned up in a slight smile, and he gave the hand beneath his a squeeze. "Really. What would you have me do?"

Except today, apparently they did. He was never going to let Natasha forget this.

"Excellent. Alright. Um-" Well. What _were_ they supposed to do? Clint hadn't thought to ask. He hadn't expected to get this far. "Why don't we-"

A sharp knock to the door cut him off. Damn. It was probably Stark, who most likely thought Clint had been killed. God forbid they let him do his job.

"What is it?" Loki's eyes were darting between Clint and the door, some of his early wariness returning.

Double damn. Just when he'd gotten the man to relax enough to talk seriously about this, too. Clint was going to kill Tony.

Smiling, he gave the man's knee another squeeze. "Nothing to worry about, boss. They probably just want to check in on me." He motioned to the window. "Can't see me, remember? Probably just concerned."

Another knock, more insistent than the first. It was jarring, but Clint kept smiling. It was enough to ease whatever worry had crept into Loki's mind. "Yes, of course. I had forgotten." The man withdrew his hand and scooted back slightly, giving Clint room to rise. "You'll come back, won't you?"

"Yea. Won't take but a minute, either." Clint stood and headed for the door. Hoping to banish any remaining tension caused by the interruption, he addressed the man over his shoulder one last time. "Try not to change your mind while I'm gone."

Loki chuckled a bit. "I swear to give it my best effort."

Satisfied with the man's apparent calm, Clint left the interrogation room, closing the door securely behind him. He scanned the room for the interruptor, and found it empty save for a frustrated Natasha. Of course.

"You know," he said, "you have the absolute worst timing. He had just agreed to do whatever we wanted."

"No longer necessary."

Without offering any sort of explanation, she took him by the wrist and pulled him from the room, all but sprinting towards the elevator. Clint did his best to wrench free, but her grip was iron.

"Jesus, Tasha. What the hell is going on?"

"The portal was opened."

That... didn't make sense. "How did-"

"No more questions. Time to work."

Well, apparently he wouldn't be returning to Loki as quickly as he'd thought.


	3. Chapter 3

Ok, so this is the final bit. During this, you shall find a battle scene cop out (but trust me, you wanted me to cop out. Battle scenes are not Sonny's thing XD), snarky bastardness, and awkward angst/shipping. Forgive me. Just. Forgive me.

Pumpkin, if this was not at all what you were looking for, I super super apologize for taking so long, building you up to it, then not even delivering what you wanted. If it is however, and you like it, then I apologize for apologizing. In short, I'm sorry. *hides* Confession: I'm horrendously self-conscious about this one and I don't even know why. I think it's because I spent so long on it, and now I'm suffering from inadequate feels.

Anyway, I'll shut up now. Take this final bit of your gift fic as an expression of my love~ I hope you like it. Also, I'm already planning a smut-tastic epilogue, so if you do end up liking it, let me know, and I will throw that at you as well 3

* * *

**PART THREE**

In Bruce's defense, he hadn't been present when Loki had told them the circumstances under which the portal would be opened. No doubt he'd confronted Selvig with all the best intentions. When he'd arrived, no one else had been around, and he probably thought he could handle the situation before anyone else exerted themselves unnecessarily. He had no way of knowing that letting the man alone would have been better for everyone, so really it wasn't his fault, and maybe they would all laugh about it tomorrow.

For now, however, the portal being opened was all Bruce's fault, and Clint couldn't have been more furious.

So close. He'd been so close to getting Loki to hand over the Tesseract and ending this battle before it started. Now any hopes of a clean ending lay crushed beneath the rubble of three blocks. Three blocks, he noted, that had been reduced to rubble in eight minutes.

Damn it. Damn portals and Bruce and alien armies, and most definitely damn angry younger brothers.

Clint really needed to find a new job.

Thankfully, Natasha had insisted that he bring his bow along. Clint had thought it overkill at the time- they were only going to talk to the guy, after all. Still, she refused to let them leave until he retrieved it, for which he was grateful now. Even though he'd left it on the ground floor, it was a hell of a lot easier to get to than if he'd left it on the ship, and a lot more useful. After this was all over, he'd have to apologize for making such a fuss.

Once they reached the ground floor, Natasha headed for the door, muttering something about meeting up with Rogers. "Go back up and start picking them off. It'll be easier up there, anyway."

Couldn't argue with that. "You alright on your own for a while?"

"Fine. Just need to check on the others. One of us will let you know if you're needed elsewhere, but until then, just work from here."

"Yes ma'am."

And though she'd barely given herself a moment to breathe since they'd left the interrogation room, Natasha took the time to give Clint a slight blow to the gut. "Smartass."

Without waiting for his retort, she took off through the door, leaving him alone. Typical.

Gathering his things, he returned to the elevator and headed for the roof. If he couldn't prevent the attack, he might as well start counteracting it as quickly as possible. The more of those ugly bastards he and the others took out now, the less clean up they'd have to do later.

After the week he'd had, they'd be lucky if Clint offered to help clean up at all.

He didn't stay on the roof long. Barely half an hour had passed before Natasha got in touch with him, saying she needed a hand on the street. And so he'd gone, fully intending to spend the rest of the battle with her, however long that may be. Which, if he had to estimate, looked like it would be a few more hours at minimum. So when things began to slow down less than ten minutes later, Clint assumed they had just dealt with the first wave of soldiers, and the rest were regrouping before coming in.

Then they met up with Stark, and Clint was forced to rethink.

The man looked far less battle ready than Clint would have expected. Helmet off and strolling casually towards him and Natasha- it was odd, to say the least.

"Calling it a day?"

"You bet." He nudged Clint a bit before motioning to the sky. "Looked up lately?"

He hadn't actually. He'd been a bit distracted by the soldiers, but decided to keep that remark to himself. Turning his attention skyward, however, he realized that Stark might be on to something. For whatever reason, the portal through which the soldiers had stormed was closed. Nothing but unbroken, blue sky.

Well, how about that. Clint took a deep breath and leaned back, resting against the smashed remains of someone's car. "Thank god for small favors."

Natasha wasn't willing to chalk it up to that. "How'd we manage to close it?"

"_We_ didn't. The others were with me. I thought one of you might have done it, but I guess not."

Which made no sense, because if not one of them, then what? It couldn't have been a malfunction. Even if Selvig had somehow made a mistake, there was no way it would have simply shut off on its own. It had to have been tampered with. Selvig could have had something to do with that, assuming he'd come to already. He certainly knew his way around the thing.

One way to find out, Clint supposed. "Why don't we go check on it? Nothing to see down here now, anyway."

A plan Stark approved of, though he opted to wait for Steve and the others. "You two go ahead. We'll regroup and catch up."

After taking a few more moments to catch their breath, Clint and Natasha did just that.

The pair made their way back to the tower quietly, more from exhaustion than anything. Regardless of how short the battle had been cut, it had been a long day. The sooner it was over now, the better. It was only after they'd made it back to the tower and reentered the elevator that the silence was broken.

"Realistically speaking," Clint asked, tapping the button that would take them to the roof, "what are the odds that Selvig came out of it and closed the portal?"

Natasha shrugged. "Only took a few good hits with you. Not sure who would have done it, but it's not entirely impossible. Besides, it's the only explanation that makes sense."

That was true. After all the infuriatingly illogical things that had taken place that week, Clint was eager for this, at least, to make sense.

Upon locating Selvig, the two found that half of their hypothesis had been correct. The man had indeed come to, though when questioned, denied any involvement in closing the portal.

"I've only just woken up," he muttered, rubbing the back of his head tenderly. No doubt the point of impact. "Though I suspect my attacker might have had something to do with it."

Natasha helped the man to his feet. "Why do you say that?"

"There was no good reason to knock me unconscious, otherwise. I would only have been in the way while they worked to close it."

No arguing that. Clint was sure Loki had asked the man to guard it. If nothing else, the guy would have been a nuisance to whoever had closed it. "Didn't happen to see this person, did you?"

Selvig shook his head. "They came from behind."

Well, Fury wasn't going to be pleased with answer, but Clint supposed worse things had happened. If Selvig's attacker had closed the portal, they obviously weren't hostile. A faceless do-gooder was nothing to worry about, and the Director would get over it quickly. It wasn't as if they'd lost track of a criminal. Speaking of which, Clint had somewhere to be.

He managed to cross half the roof before Natasha noticed. "Where are yougoing?"

"To check on our inmate."

And he was going to. He really was. The promise was a bit difficult to act on, however, when said inmate was nowhere to be found.

Upon returning to the interrogation room, he found the door behind which he'd left Loki to be wide open. He stared at it for a moment, gut clenched. He knew he had to look inside, but god, what he wouldn't have give not to. He knew what he'd find, and more than that, he knew that Fury was going to be livid. He really was, as Natasha had said, going to demand Clint's head.

He thought the man might run, he just wished Loki would have waited until he was someone else's responsibility before doing so.

Taking a deep breath to center himself, he entered the room. Sure enough, it was empty. Well, not entirely. By the wall where Loki had been sitting was a piece of paper weighed down by a pen. As neither of those items had been in the adjoining room, their presence piqued Clint's anger. He could see the man now, searching the tower at his leisure until he came across and pen and paper, knowing full well he wouldn't be caught. Smug bastard. Still, it had him curious, and he picked it up. Scrawled across the top was a short message.

_You all really ought to learn to lock doors. But nevermind. You're welcome._

Given the circumstances, Clint could think of only one thing he and the others should be thanking Loki for. If he was right, well, maybe he wasn't too much of a bastard. Still smug, though, but there were worse things the guy could be; the kind of person who runs off before closing his own portal, for example.

Clint folded the note and headed for the elevator, resigning himself to the fact that he'd have to tell the others what had happened. He just hoped they- and Fury. Especially Fury- would be pleased enough with Loki's contribution to their plight to overlook the fact that Clint was the one who'd left the door unlocked.

0-0-0

"You forgot to lock the door."

Clint rubbed at his temples, trying to keep his returning headache at bay. Stark had repeated that fact five times already, and his nerves were wearing thin. "Yes. But I think you're missing the point."

"Really, because I thought the point was to keep Loki contained, not let him run off to god knows where."

"Well I might have had time to lock the door if Natasha hadn't-"

"Don't drag me into this!"

"I'm just saying..." Clint trailed off with a huff. This was pointless. "Look, I know he got out, and I know that wasn't exactly what any of us had planned on, but you're all getting hung up on a very small portion of a very huge point."

Natasha didn't look convinced. "Which is?"

"I was right about Loki."

Thor, who had passively been watching them bicker for the last half hour, finally saw fit to speak. "That's true. Loki _did _close the portal."

"Allegedly," Stark added.

Rogers came to Clint's defense. "Who else could have done it, then? Wasn't any of us. We wouldn't have even known how to do it. That leaves Selvig and Loki, and in case anyone forgot, Selvig was unconscious while the thing was being tampered with."

And that, at least, shut Stark up. Clint mouthed a "thank you" to Steve, who shrugged it off.

Bruce, whose lingering embarrassment over engaging Selvig in the first place had kept him relatively quiet, jumped in. "If Loki did close the portal, why would he run? He'd have to know how suspicious it would look."

"He's a criminal, either way. I mean-" Rogers paused, turning his attention to Thor. "-even if closing the portal got him off light here, he'd still have to stand trial back home. Right?" The other man nodded, and Steve continued. "Sticking around just wasn't in his best interest. Doesn't mean he didn't help us."

"Exactly," Clint said, turning his attention back to Stark.

The man stared back at him a moment, looking as if he might try to retort, but eventually settled for a low grumble. "Point taken. But it doesn't change the fact that he got away on our watch. Even after Fury's convinced that Loki sabotaged his own army- and believe me, that's gonna take a lot of convincing- we're still in for a tongue lashing. He'll be pissed for weeks."

Something Clint wasn't looking forward to. It certainly wouldn't help his case when he put in for time off. Still, it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. "Just tell him it was my fault and I'll deal with it."

Tony shook his head. "It was my tower he got out of. Fury will already be pissed at me for not having better security- no sense in him being mad at you, too."

Well, Clint certainly hadn't expected that. Some of his surprise must have shown, because Stark quickly added, "You've spent the better part of a week playing Loki's pool boy and getting hit over the head. You need sleep, not a lecture. But you owe me."

"Dinner sometime next week ?" Tony was easily won with food.

"At least _three_ dinners next week. Expensive ones. And a new set of handcuffs, because I'm guessing your friend didn't leave those behind."

Well, at least Clint had gotten paid last week. "Done."

"Good." Tony took a seat beside Steve on floor and pulled out his phone. "Now go home, kid. We can handle it from here."

"You sure?"

"Home. Now. You look terrible. Sleep."

It was the closest thing to concern Clint had ever heard coming from Tony, and he decided it was the best he'd get. "Right, leaving." He turned to address Natasha before heading out. "Need a place to crash?"

She shook her head. "I'll going home after this is settled. Call me tomorrow, though. Let me know you aren't dead."

After promising he would (and promising _again _that he wouldn't forget like last time) Clint left the tower for the final time that day, hoping to god that there was still at least one taxi running in the city. Getting home would be a hell of a feat otherwise.

* * *

Three hours and a fifty dollar tip later, Clint found himself at the door of his apartment building. It was almost funny- he'd been looking for a good reason to move somewhere better for years, but at that moment he couldn't think of anywhere else he would have rather come home to. The building's yellow door was comforting, as was the grumpy doorman. Even the sign declaring that the elevator was once again out of order was something pleasant. Not like he needed it, anyway. He only lived on the second floor.

After making his way up the stairs and down a small hall, he found himself at his door- number 25, though due to the missing number, it had read "5" since the third month he'd lived there. But the landlords had drawn a nice looking two next to the remaining plastic digit, so Clint supposed it didn't matter.

Pulling the key from his pocket, he unlocked the door and entered, tossing his things aside. He heard the faint scuffle of his arrows scattering, but couldn't be bothered to pick them up. He'd left the place a mess anyway. He'd worry with it in the morning. For now, he'd just turn on the- oh. Well then.

It was only when Clint went to flip on his lights that he noticed they were already on. Meaning they'd been on since he'd left, and his electric bill would be through the roof this month. _Damn_. He knew he should have talked Stark down to two dinners.

"They weren't on when I arrived, if that's what has you looking so sour."

Clint jumped a bit at the voice, eyes scanning the room for its owner. Not that he needed to. He'd listened to Loki enough over the last few days. He knew the man's voice when he heard it.

Sure enough, there he was, sitting at the small table that poked out of Cint's kitchen. Not entirely unexpected. Loki knew the location of two things in all of New York: Stark Tower and Clint's apartment. It stood to reason he'd show up sometime. Clint just hadn't expected it to be so... well, soon.

He crossed the room, joining the man at the table. "Been here long?"

"An hour, perhaps."

How the man had managed to get there with no money was beyond him, but he decided not to ask for details. "Sorry for the wait. Traffic was awful."

"No concerns as to how I gained entrance?"

Clint chuckled. "The front door, I'm guessing. The doorman lets anyone in so long as they drop a name. Does it for Tasha all the time."

Loki stiffened a bit at that. "Yes, he mentioned her."

"Oh yea?" He didn't know the guy paid enough attention to register that she was a returning visitor, let alone retain enough to have something to say about her. "What?"

"He didn't say her name, but he asked if you were still 'kissing that pretty redhead' and I assumed."

Oh. _Oh. _Well. Apparently the doorman paid considerably more attention than Clint thought. The table suddenly felt too formal, at least if the conversation was going in this sort of direction.

"You know," he said, abandoning the table in favor of the couch, "if I was a doorman, that wouldn't be the first thing I asked about someone who hadn't been heard from in days."

He motioned for Loki to join him, busying himself with removing his boots while the man made his way over. Loki was quick to follow, though he stood in front of the couch a while, considering each of the cushions carefully. Finally he plopped down in the center of the couch, leaving a few good inches between himself and Clint.

"Are you? With her still, I mean."

Yep. Moving to the couch had been a good decision.

"No." Clint turned to face Loki, back pressed into the arm and knees drawn to his chest. Room for the other man to move closer if he wanted, and Clint was sure he would want to later. "Haven't been in awhile."

The man was silent a moment, considering either the answer or his own response. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine. It wouldn't have worked out, and Tasha and I are still friends so it's no big deal.

Loki gave a nervous chuckle. "Not for that." His fingers found the tattered edge of his sleeve again. Clint would have to remember to let him borrow a shirt. "For what passed between us the other day."

"What, that kiss?"

A blush crept to the man's cheeks. "Yes. I took advantage of your situation, and it wasn't entirely fair. Truthfully, I hadn't even considered- well, I hadn't considered anything. Least of all the possibility of..." he trailed off, struggling with whatever thought he'd been trying to complete.

Clint came to his rescue. "A redhead?"

"A woman of any sort."

Clint waved it off. "Like I said, Tasha and I haven't been a thing in a while. You didn't encroach on anyone's territory, woman or otherwise."

Loki perked at that. "Otherwise?"

Ah, so that's what had him worried. "Don't sound so surprised. I've kissed men before, boss."

It didn't happen as often, but enough for Loki's gender to be the least bothersome aspect of their encounter.

The information was comforting for the man, at least, and Loki relaxed. He pulled his knees onto the couch as well and scooted forward, closing the distance between himself and Clint before carrying on. "While we're on the subject of wrongs I may have possibly dealt you, how was my disappearance taken?"

Clint snorted. "A bit rocky at the start, but we worked it out. It helped that you closed the portal. Took the edge off, anyway. Everyone had a hard time staying pissed at you after that."

"Yourself included?" Loki did his best to look wholly disinterested. Clint knew he wasn't.

"We're even." He nudged the man with his toes a bit to lighten the mood. And it worked, if Loki's smile was any indication. Which Clint appreciated now that he thought of it. Hard not to. The guy had a nice smile. It had probably gotten him out of a lot of trouble over the years.

Clint shook himself, dispelling the thought. Wouldn't do any good. He remembered it starting that way with Natasha, too- nice smile. Nice lips. Probably soft. Maybe just one taste. But it hadn't been just one, and it had only escalated after that. It always did, and damn if that didn't make ending it awkward. He'd just as soon not deal with that again. Besides, no point in getting attached when Loki probably wouldn't even be around long. Speaking of which.

"What's the plan, boss? You know where you're going?"

Loki shrugged. "Here and there."

Meaning he had no clue, but his pride wouldn't allow him to admit it. With no knowledge of the area or any money, Clint would only imagine where he'd be living. Maybe the man had some way of sneaking back to Asgard or wherever else for better lodgings now and then, but he doubted Loki would do that much. Even if it were a possibility, it was a risky one.

"You know it's going to be rough for a while, right?"

"Perhaps not so much as you think, but yes, I took that into consideration."

"And just going home was still that bad in comparison?"

The man took his time with answering, and for a moment Clint though he'd overstepped his bounds.

"For now, yes. I'm afraid that I-" Loki sighed. "Well, you saw how I was with Thor. He isn't as thick-skinned as he would have others think. He'll need time."

Clint knew he should leave it alone. His brother and home were delicate subjects for Loki. Still, he couldn't resist. "For what, exactly?"

"To remember why he wanted me to return in the first place. I have a talent for squashing other's affections for me, as I'm sure you've noticed." It was bitter, almost harsh. Clint knew he should have kept quiet.

With the way Loki disappeared, Thor was more worried than angry. He'd hardly spoken a word to Clint or the others once he'd been found missing, and it had taken all of their efforts to convince the man to stay at the tower instead of going out on search. But he wouldn't say that. He'd butted in enough for one night, and it wouldn't mean anything. Not now. Nothing he could say about Thor would make a bit of difference until Loki figured it out for himself, which would take some time by the sound of it. The man was knee deep in guilt, and that was hell to wade through. Clint knew the feeling well enough.

"Stay here a while." It was either sympathy or the interest in the other's lips he hadn't quite managed to shake earlier. Probably the latter, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

"Pardon?"

"Stay."

"What for?"

"Still a fugitive, remember? There wouldn't have been a portal to close if you hadn't stolen the Tesseract in the first place, and Fury's not going to forget that. He'll have a watch out for you for a while. If you don't want to be caught, the best thing you can do is lay low somewhere safe, and I can guarantee he's not going to come knocking on my door looking for you."

It was foolproof. Loki didn't look so sure. "For how long?"

"He'll probably lose interest in a month or so. After that, you're free to go wherever until you're ready to head home."

"And might I ask why you're offering?"

Clint wished he wouldn't. Was it really so hard to believe that he was genuinely hospitable? Still, he gave the man his answer. "Been there. Living on the road isn't all it's cracked up to be. You start missing stability and familiar faces."

Home, really. Having a home and all that went with it was what you missed, and whether or not Loki would admit it, Clint was sure he already missed his. Bouncing around from alleyway to alleyway every other night wasn't going to help that. His apartment wasn't Asgard and he wasn't Thor, but his couch was comfortable and he wasn't going anywhere. Not for more than a few days at a time, at least. For now, it was what the man needed.

Loki looked to be struggling with the thought, nibbling his lip as if he could pull an answer from it as easily as he could blood. He still wasn't convinced. Clint would be lying if he said it didn't sting a little. Still, it was understandable. It would be an easy enough trick, getting Loki to stay then alerting the others to his whereabouts. Clint wouldn't do it, of course, but Loki had no way of knowing that for certain. No doubt he was weighing his options now, deciding if it was worth the risk.

Clint came to his aid. "Look, it's been a hell of a day, and I don't know about you, but I'm tired. Why don't you sleep on it? I can bring you some pillows and blankets, and you can crash out here for the night. We can talk about it again in the morning when we're both feeling better and go from there. Sound good?"

The man thought on it for a moment, though only for the sake of appearances. Loki had leaned over against the plump back cushions of the couch ten minutes prior, and looked to be on the brink of passing out ever since. "I see no harm in it."

Perfect. "Give me a minute."

Hopping up from the couch, Clint hurried to his bedroom, snatching up a spare pillow . After a fruitless search for a blanket, he scooped up the comforter that rested in a ball at the foot of his bed. He never used the thing anyway. Returning to the couch, he fluffed the pillow a bit and propped it against the arm to Loki's back and handed him the cover. The man took it with a mumbled thanks, then began to settle down.

While Loki tucked himself in, Clint went to the kitchen and flipped on the light above the stove. Once the overhead light was off, the room would be pitch black without it. He personally didn't mind it, but he knew the space. If Loki needed to get up in the night for whatever reason, he'd wouldn't make it three feet in any direction without stumbling over the mess Clint had left. He'd just as soon avoid that.

After flipping off the overhead lights, Clint returned to the couch to check on Loki a final time. The man had burrowed into it. Only his face was exposed, and even half of that was swallowed by the pillow. He blinked up at Clint, seemingly fighting to remain conscious. It was almost endearing. He wouldn't mind seeing it again, though he tried not to think that far ahead. Tomorrow was still a ways off.

"You going to be alright out here?"

"Mm."

Clint smirked. Definitely wouldn't mind seeing this again. "Alright. If you need anything, help yourself."

Loki nodded, or attempted at least. The motion was stunted by the pillow, and the man turned his head slightly to escape it. " 'night."

And then Clint had an urge, one he should have ignored. It was bad timing, if nothing else. The other man was barely conscious, and there was a chance he wouldn't remember it in the morning anyway. Still, the way Loki had turned had exposed the rest of his face. The angle was perfect. If he just leaned in-

_Bad idea. Bad idea._

Well, he'd had worse ones. It wouldn't hurt. "Night, boss."

Bracing himself on the arm of the couch, he leaned over the man and pressed a kiss to the center of his lips. He felt Loki tense beneath him and he lingered a moment, enjoying the feeling of having taken him by surprise. When he finally pulled back, the man's eyes had reopened and were scanning him with groggy confusion.

"What was that?"

Clint smirked. "Earth magic. It'll help you sleep."

Giving Loki a final peck on the nose, he pulled back and headed for his own room, pausing when he heard the sound of rustling covers. He waited in the doorway, thinking perhaps... But no. After a few moments, the sound stopped. Loki had settled again, and had no plans of coming after him. It was almost disappointing. Still, he comforted himself with the fact that he'd gotten the last word.

Settling into his own bed, he allowed himself to drift off, his last thoughts of the other man's oddly soft lips. Would have been nice to have another kiss. Just one more, maybe with a little more conscious effort on Loki's part. But there was time for that.

Next time, for sure.

0-0-0

When Clint came out of his room the next morning to find Loki gone, he couldn't find it in himself to be angry. He should have expected it. He'd made running too convenient of an option. Still, after the last few days... well, he supposed he'd just taken it too seriously. Loki liked to talk, after all. Nothing special. He'd needed a shoulder and Clint had provided it. The guy would have just as soon taken it from anyone else, had they offered.

At least Loki hadn't stolen his pillow or comforter. Clint suddenly wanted nothing more than to curl up in them and wait for the day to be over.

Lower in spirits than he thought he'd be that morning, he dragged himself to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee, intending to do nothing but drink it and watch movies the entire day. He usually reserved that routine for after a bad break up, but he was craving the comfort of it. Besides, Loki had walked out on him in the middle of the night. It was close enough.

He paused the brew to pour himself a cup, then went to the living area. After setting down his mug, he plopped on the couch, intending to sift through the pile of dvds on the coffee table until one caught his eye. He didn't make it that far, however. A crinkle and an odd texture against the back of his thighs served as a distraction.

Curious, he raised up slightly and felt around for whatever he'd sat on. Oddly enough, it felt like paper and he wondered how Loki hadn't noticed it the night before. Surely the man hadn't been that tired. Unless, of course-

Grabbing the crumpled sheet, Clint brought it to his knees and smoothed it out for inspection. It was a note, written in the same messy script as the one he'd found in the interrogation room the day before.

_I accept your offer and will return soon. Tomorrow night at the latest. I only need a moment to myself. Don't be angry. And thank you. Your "magic" did what you promised. I will have to remember to return the favor._

Clint read over the lines several times before carefully folding the note and setting it aside. Picking up his mug, he relaxed into the couch, considering the possibilities. It could be a lie, but he doubted it. Loki hadn't lied to him yet, and starting then would have been pointless. If he was just going to disappear, he would have done so. So nothing to worry about there. The guy would be back when he said he would. Clint would just have to wait it out. And he was good at waiting. Especially when he had something promising to wait for.

He took a sip of his coffee, imagining the smirk that must have been on the man's face when he composed the last of his note. _I will have to remember to return the favor._ Saucy bastard.

Clint had no intention of letting him forget, anyway.


	4. a flailing thanks, because feels

HOLY SHIT AT ALL THE FAVS. I can't even, you guys. CAN'T EVEN. *flails*

You guys are the best, really. I'm glad so many of you like this. It makes me feel a lot better about the person I wrote it for reading it now. I'm not sure if she has yet, but due to the amount of you that like it, I'm sure I have nothing to worry about. Here, take these hugs from papa Sonny: *hugs*

Also, just so everyone knows, that follow-up/epilogue thing I was thinking of doing for this is totally a go. And it's going to be smutty. So super smutty. Be patient with me, though. I'm working on like five stories at once, so it might take a while. But rest assured, honeybunches, smut is coming your way.

Thanks again for liking this so much :D


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